


Hydrotherapy

by BlossomsintheMist



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Insecure Tony, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecurity, M/M, Oral Sex, Pool Sex, Swimming Pools, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 21:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/pseuds/BlossomsintheMist
Summary: It was nice, floating, like this.  Not being terrified, not worrying about it, even though the water of the pool was washing over his belly, soft and cool at the sides of his face, damp at his temples, at the edges of his closed eyes.  “I’ve got you, Tony,” Steve muttered, and it was so sweet, so soft, in his ears, washing over him like the water of the pool lapping at his body, cool at his ears, tugging at his hair.I wanted to write a fic about Steve and Tony having sex while Tony was floating in a pool.  So I did.





	Hydrotherapy

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of based on the idea that Tony might try to re-acclimate himself to water over his face after being waterboarded in fits and starts. Set early in MCU, maybe not long after Avengers (2012), but long enough for Steve and Tony to get together (somehow).

It was nice, floating, like this. Not being terrified, not worrying about it, even though the water of the pool was washing over his belly, soft and cool at the sides of his face, damp at his temples, at the edges of his closed eyes. “I’ve got you, Tony,” Steve muttered, and it was so sweet, so soft, in his ears, washing over him like the water of the pool lapping at his body, cool at his ears, tugging at his hair.

Tony gave a soft, languid, “Mmm,” a moan as Steve traced his hand down over his stomach, through the water that slid soft and cool over Tony’s belly in little waves every time he swayed toward Steve, shifted in the water. Tony was good at floating, but he was barely worrying about it—after all, Steve was braced under him, legs set wide apart, on the bottom of the pool, and he had his broad, warm, strong hand steady under Tony’s head, even as Tony’s legs draped over his shoulders, half submerged in the water, as Steve brushed little kisses over Tony’s thigh. Steve wouldn’t let his head drop down under the water, wouldn’t let him struggle or drown in it. “God, Cap,” Tony mumbled, letting one hand float lazily in the water, but bringing the other up to rub gentle circles over Steve’s broad, strong arm where it braced him under the water.

“Steve,” Steve murmured softly, against his thigh. Tony dragged his eyes open, just enough to see the way Steve’s head was bent, his hair falling forward, damp, into his eyes, which were shut, so that his unfairly long lashes brushed against the skin of Tony’s thigh with every soft little drag of his lips. “It’s Steve,” Steve said, and pressed another kiss to Tony’s thigh.

Tony loved those damn unfairly long eyelashes, the way Steve’s hair flopped over and curled against his forehead. He reached out, brushed his fingers through it, not letting go of his arm. “Steve,” he said, and if it came out husky and rough and a little breaking and weird, well, that was probably okay, and Steve’s big broad fingers curled lightly in his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, along the curve of his skull, and that was _so good_ that Tony moaned again, arched his back, trying not to be insistent or anything, but God, it was good; that felt so good. “Honey,” he breathed, “honeybunch, sugarpie, fruitcake, studmuffin—”

“Fruitcake?” Steve snorted against his thigh, then rubbed his nose in against it and nuzzled, brushed his lips there again softly, before he palmed his hand over Tony’s hip and thigh. His hands were so big and hot, such a dramatic contrast to the pleasantly cool water around them. A moment later he had opened his mouth and was mouthing wetly at Tony’s balls, up along his cock, and whatever devastatingly clever, witty retort Tony had been about to think of disappeared in a wash of bright, shivering pleasure that sparked hot and wild all the way down to his toes. He groaned out, loud and long, and Steve made a pleased sound and pushed his head up into Tony’s hand in his hair, not taking his mouth off his cock. Tony could hear the splash of the water as he jerked, kicked his feet, moaned and writhed up against Steve, but Steve’s hand just firmed under his head, holding him steady, and his mouth just got hotter as he licked up and down Tony’s cock.

God, he felt so good, and he didn’t even seem to mind that there was no way that Tony could possibly get to him and reciprocate in this position, or that Tony was just lying here literally letting himself float like the laziest lover in existence, or even that Tony’s cock was still, somehow, only half hard, despite Captain America’s _mouth on it_ , despite the fact that this was one of the hottest things he could imagine, the way it sent vivid sparks of lightning-hot desire down Tony’s spine to pool between his hips and shoot through his dick, throb in his balls. Steve didn’t seem to mind, either, that Tony was—totally average-sized, for a guy, thank you, but smaller than Steve, that was for sure, small enough that Steve could practically cover Tony’s whole dick with his hand when he was soft. He wasn’t huge, that was the thing, and Tony sort of had this idea that maybe the rest of the Avengers with cocks were pretty huge, and he was just a normal sized guy, and he—(he’d peeked at Barton once, when they were in decontamination at SHIELD, and it wasn’t like he’d been _hoping_ that the other normal guy on the team was smaller than he was or at least the same size, or anything, because honestly that was just sad, in a man of his age, to worry about that kind of thing, but yeah, Barton was bigger than he was, and … yeah)—

But Steve never seemed to mind, had never even mentioned it, like he hadn’t even ever noticed that Tony was actually pretty not well-endowed compared to him. Tony hadn’t ever asked if Steve really didn’t mind or if he was just being his sweetheart self about it, but he was—he was really glad that Steve hadn’t looked disappointed or surprised or anything once Tony had gotten his pants off, hadn’t made a crack about how he’d known Tony was compensating for something, or he sure talked big for someone without a lot of heat to back it up with, or maybe that he’d expected the great Tony Stark to be _bigger_ , like that mattered compared to what you could do with it—you in general because Tony wasn’t _small_ —

Steve was still petting his thighs, nosing against his dick and licking all messily and wet around his balls, up and down the base of it, the shaft, letting it rub along his nose, and God, God that was hot—the heat of his mouth and the contrast to the cool water, splashing up over his balls, against his perineum, and the feeling was so electric, somehow, that Tony moaned. God, his toes were probably curling in the water, his hands curling into loose fists, against Steve’s strong arm, in his hair, and Steve had barely gotten started—

Steve’s hand slid gently up and down his thigh, curving gently against the muscle, big and warm and wow, that felt good. Tony felt his eyes start to flutter, and his fingers curled in against Steve’s scalp as he started to ease into it, the lapping coolness of the water, the feeling of it under him, not quite support, Steve’s warm arms, so much hotter than the water, the strength of him, and the heat of his mouth on Tony’s needy, throbbing cock, and then Steve made an eager little whining hmph of a sound through his nose that had to just be the _hottest_ thing ever, and his fingers curled tighter against Tony’s thigh, digging in just a little with a twinge of pressure that shot heat straight to Tony’s cock, and opened his mouth over the head, sucked him inside.

Tony whined, made an embarrassingly loud noise through his nose, felt himself arch up and flail around a little in the water, his hand going tight in Steve’s hair, and tried to keep his hips still. He loved _giving_ head, had always loved it, but damn, getting it had to be just as good, and Steve was so—so sincere about it, eager and earnest as he sucked at the head of Tony’s cock, laving his big strong warm tongue over it, then moved forward, pushed his mouth down over the rest of him, took Tony further into his mouth and _sucked_ , and Tony made a sort of embarrassing whining noise and felt his back arch up, leave the water and then sink back into it with a splash. Steve just kept sucking, his hand steady at the back of Tony’s head, and Tony sighed, feeling himself relax into it, even as Steve slid back off, sucked and licked gently at the head, nuzzling wet little kisses over it that had Tony melting back into his arms, letting his hips roll languidly in the water, or maybe it was that Steve was moving him as he sucked and licked at Tony’s dick, but he didn’t mind, it was so good … .

Steve’s hand came up, curled lightly around Tony’s base, his thumb stroking along it lightly, so lightly, in a way that made goosebumps prickle all over Tony’s body, under the water, down to his toes, and he pulled off so that Tony’s wet, throbbing cock, very hard now, smacked against his pelvis, looked up through those unfairly long, gorgeous, pretty lashes at Tony and smiled a little, and oh, God, his lips were all wet and red and swollen puffy, and his hair was still in his eyes, and God, damn, he was so beautiful, and Tony still couldn’t believe Steve even wanted to—that he would do this for him—

He swallowed hard, felt his eyes stinging oddly. “Shh,” Steve said, and his voice was throaty, husky. Rough from blowing him, God. “Relax.”

Tony just groaned, letting his head fall back and bob in the water. Steve grinned, brushed his mouth along Tony’s thigh, grazed his teeth along wet skin like a gentle bite. “S’good?” he murmured. “You like that?”

“Steven,” Tony said, trying to sound stern, but it came out languid and lazy instead. He felt his heels press into Steve’s broad, strong shoulders, his toes curling in the water as Steve laughed and pressed soft little kisses along his thighs, against his perineum, around his cock and his balls, before he sucked one of them into his mouth, curling his tongue against it sweetly, and Tony groaned, shuddering in the water, goosebumps sweeping over his skin all over, down his arms and legs and over his scalp, his chest, cool against the water. “Mmmm,” Tony groaned helplessly. “Like it, of course, I—s’so good.”

Steve took it slow, and lazy—he was clearly serious about the Tony relaxing thing—as he sucked gently on first one of Tony’s balls, then the other, trailed his nose, his face, up along Tony’s cock, closed his lips over the tip and sucked almost softly before running his tongue down the shaft again. Tony felt his body heating up, almost surreal against the coolness of the water, pleasure building inside him slow and teasing, almost like the water lapping against his sides, his skin. It kept coiling tight, and he’d moan and whimper at the tight heat, the need that throbbed in his cock, but Steve wouldn’t go any faster, wouldn’t change his pace in the slightest, and then Tony would find himself relaxing into it again, something uncoiling slow and hot inside him, until his whole body was heat and he was just floating there, deep inside it. He could tell his orgasm would be slow this time, slow and honey-sweet, could tell Steve wanted to get him there that way, too, leisurely and gentle, unhurried and gradual.

Steve spread his legs apart, gently, letting them slide down his broad, strong shoulders, rubbing gently at the side of one knee, and Tony let him, felt his feet moving slowly in the water, the water lapping at his thighs, and sighed, felt something deep inside of him untwist a little more and slide free, as Steve licked up his cock and closed his hot mouth over the head again. He gave Tony sweet, easy little sucks, before he closed his mouth and sucked harder. They might have stayed there for a long time; Tony wasn’t sure. He just closed his eyes and let himself float there and enjoy that he felt so good, the pleasure washing over him, the safety in Steve’s hand under his head and the knowledge that even if Tony suddenly failed to keep himself floating, Steve wouldn’t let his head slip under the water. He let his hand curl around Steve’s broad forearm, anchoring himself, let his head loll back against Steve’s hand, water cool against his temples, let himself sink into it and feel the pleasure build hot and liquid inside of him, deep and slow.

It was a long, long time until he came, Steve’s thumb making little circles on the side of his knee, warm broad palm curled over it, fingers of his other hand curling idly in Tony’s hair as he gasped and moaned and panted and made little sounds he might have been embarrassed over if he was paying more attention and arched into it. He felt like he was floating not just on the water, but on everything, loose and liquid and soft, and his orgasm built slowly inside of him, crested gradually, a slow, overwhelming build-up of sensation, washing over him like a tidal wave from the inside out. And when it finally overtook him, and he was crying out and arching up into it and gasping as pleasure took over his whole world, it didn’t seem to stop, either—it just went on and on, ebbing only to crest into impossible pleasure, impossible sensation again as Steve kept sucking gently at his cock. When Steve finally stopped and pulled away, let Tony’s softening cock fall from his lips and splash gently into the water, Tony opened his eyes and realized that there were tears at the corners of his eyes, not just water from the pool. He might have been embarrassed, normally, but it was hard to care just at that moment.

Tony just lay there, floating in the water, for a long time, running his thumb back and forth over Steve’s forearm, feeling the wet slide of the so-blond-it-was-invisible hair on Steve’s arm as if it were far away and very vividly present at the same time. Steve was still holding him up, pressing little kisses over his thighs. Steve was always so sweet. Tony didn’t think he’d ever had another lover that was so—so un-self-consciously, openly sweet, so eagerly invested in his pleasure. (He’d had other lovers equally as invested, of course; it was Steve’s lack of self-consciousness about it that was so unusual, like there was absolutely no reason for him to be embarrassed about it at all, that affection so on the surface, sincere and eager and real.) Steve was resting his cheek on Tony’s thigh now, his eyes closed, a little smile on his face, lips puffy and shiny and his cheeks flushed, and he couldn’t have looked any happier just to be standing there, his skin pressed to Tony’s inner thigh, not even if he’d just come himself. Tony felt something, a kind of tender, hot affection, twist up and tug in his chest, tight and almost painful, like a bruise. He didn’t know what to say; he felt his eyes stinging again, and when he swallowed, there was a wet click in his throat, a thickness he could feel in the back of his nose. He reached down, feeling clumsy, until he could find Steve’s head between his legs, and ruffled his damp hair with one hand, curving his hand against the back of his neck, clutching his face to his thigh.

“Tony,” Steve whispered, and it broke a little, even little more than breath as it was, as it ghosted warm across Tony’s inner thigh. Tony’s hand tightened a little more in that tousled damp hair.

“You, mmm,” it was hard to remember how to talk, “you okay there, champ?” There, that had mostly made sense, even if it still came out slurring and low.

Steve nodded, his cheek still pressed tight to Tony’s thigh, a bright spot of contact, of warmth, against the coolness of the water. “Just,” he said, and it sounded thick, raspy. Probably from having Tony’s cock in his mouth, down his throat, Tony thought belatedly, and damn if that didn’t send another spark of lazy heat down to his tired cock. “Just happy I can do that for you.” His thumb ran slowly up and down Tony’s thigh, slow and gentle, and Tony shuddered, feeling loose and relaxed and soft and spun out under that simple touch.

Even in Tony’s lazy, tired, soft, spun out mind, he figured Steve didn’t mean just give him a blowjob. “What, suck my brains out through my dick?” he babbled anyway, and he felt Steve’s soft lips curve against his thigh. Score one for the home team, then, he thought, slow and scattered. “Make me feel so good I don’t know what to do with myself? Yeah, you’re doing just fine at that, Rogers.”

Steve’s smile was obvious now. “Yeah,” he said, still soft, but that smile was in it. “Something like that. Helping you relax.” His hand slid down from under Tony’s head, slowly, supporting his neck for a moment, then brushing warm and open over his shoulders, caressing, before it slid down to his ass and lingered there, cupping it, rubbing slowly, until Tony was smiling up at the ceiling, because damn, did Steve like his ass. “You feel so good,” he said, “and you’re so, damn, you’re so beautiful, Tony, all, all—” and Tony just smiled a little more. Imagine that, Captain America of all people saying that his battered, struggling body was beautiful.

“All what?” he asked with lazy interest, lifting his head despite how heavy and loose it felt on his neck, and was rewarded by seeing Steve flush bright.

“Lush,” he muttered. “Muscular. Beautiful.”

“Nice words,” Tony said, “high praise,” feeling a warm coil of pleasure in his belly, and Steve smiled a little. His lips were still so red and swollen, and God, that was something else.

“Well, yeah,” Steve said. “I think you’re beautiful, like I said. And it’s my privilege to, to be able to do that for you.” He was red and stuttering over his words a little, damp hair a messy tousle over his forehead, but his blue eyes were wide and sincere.

“Sweetheart,” Tony said, and it came out thick, because Steve was sweet, so damn sweet. He cleared his throat a little, coughed, so that when he spoke again, it came out clearer, not so low and husky and soft and choked. “If I didn’t trust you, spangles, we wouldn’t be doing this in a goddamn pool. It’s one hell of a trust exercise.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Steve said, all soft and sincere, and yeah, that melted something inside Tony a little bit. He slid his legs down off Steve’s broad, broad shoulders, let himself sway forward a little in the water up against his chest, so he could wrap both his arms around Steve’s sturdy neck, let him be his support. Steve gasped a little, lips parting, and Tony kissed him, sweet and soft and easy, without another thought, letting his knees press gently in at Steve’s sides. Steve sighed out into the kiss, long and soft, and his lips parted like a flower for the sun, so soft and eager that Tony was kissing him deeply in moments, sweetly, lapping at his taste, drinking in his soft, needy little sounds, his grunts and groans, as his hands came up to support Tony, one at his back, the other at his ass, maybe also to cop a feel; Tony wasn’t sure, and Steve did love his ass, but he didn’t begrudge him that. It was incredibly fucking flattering, actually, to think that his ridiculous, rounded ass—the same big round one that he was a little sensitive about all the weight on—was that attractive to Steve. Of all people. It was easy, with how good and relaxed and easy Tony felt, slow and soft and languid, to get lost in the pleasure of kissing, how good it was, how perfect the soft, slow pleasure of it felt, Steve’s breath and the softness of his lips and his warm wet tongue and the sweet way he kissed back, but eventually it occurred to Tony that he could feel Steve’s hot, hard length, hot as branding, pressing into the underside of his thigh, and jeez, they hadn’t done anything for him yet.

He slid one hand around to grip firmly at the damp back of Steve’s neck and let one leg drift open so he could get his hand down, still relying on Steve to hold him up, the sturdy warmth of his body an anchor in the cool water of the pool. They were much too deep for Tony’s feet to touch the bottom here—the water was up to Steve’s shoulders with him standing, after all—so unless he wanted to start taking over for himself, he had to rely on Steve. He reached down, curled one hand around that hot length, blistering hot even with the cool water around it, and so big he could barely encircle it with his fingers. Steve jolted, his eyes dilating, and his arms trembled, a gasp escaping his well-kissed lips, soft and wet and puffy against Tony’s mouth, but he was far too steady to let go of Tony, or even really do more than jerk a little, feet still firmly planting. Tony grinned into Steve’s face, not pulling back from his mouth at all, knowing his eyes were twinkling. “Can I do anything for you, tiger?” he asked. “Seems like you’ve got something you’d like.” So it wasn’t his best line, so sue him; his head still felt all floaty and light and taken apart. He pulled up on Steve’s big, hot cock as he spoke, and he could feel Steve’s reaction in his whole body against him, the way his muscles shuddered and he curled in on himself a little, all the way down to his toes.

“I, uh,” Steve said, and God, the hoarse little breaking rasp in his voice, the little whimper, Tony would never get enough of that. “If you’re, uh, you’re not ready—I can, I mean, I can wait.”

Tony massaged his hand up and down that huge, hard shaft, giving it that little twist on the end that always made Steve gasp through his nose like he was about to cry—and yes, there it was, accompanied with the full body shudders, Steve’s eyes closing, his head tilting forward.

“Does it seem like I need any more time to you?” he murmured in Steve’s ear, and he took care to make it soft and throaty, husky and deep.

“T-Tony,” Steve stuttered, a low, groaning gasp. His hips were rolling forward now, into Tony’s grip.

“Shh, that’s it, big fella,” Tony said, taking care to keep his voice soft, deep. He tightened his hand on the back of Steve’s neck, coaxing his head forward, until he could guide Steve’s face to rest on his shoulder, his skin feeling damp and flushed against Tony’s, cooled by the water and the flush of his orgasm already faded. “You’re so good to me,” he murmured in Steve’s ear, and Steve gave a little broken whimper, his hips jerking like he might have when he came, and his hand slipped uncertainly, needily, up and down Tony’s back. “That was so good. I feel so good.”

“’m glad,” Steve mumbled, rough and low and yet soft and almost sheepish into his shoulder.

“Shh,” Tony soothed, and stroked his fingers through the strands of Steve’s hair, rubbing lightly at the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Steve’s mouth came to rest against his collarbone, warm against the coolness the water had left there, still damp, smearing wet and warm in contrast, breath coming in heavy pants as Tony kept stroking him. They kept at it for a few seconds, but Tony knew Steve wouldn’t last, not as worked up as he was, and he wanted to give him something a little nicer than just a hand on his dick underwater, so eventually he nudged him with his knees, coaxed him to walk toward the side of the pool without much more than kisses to his jaw and ear and a knee rubbing against his hard abs, fingers pulling at his hair. Steve was cooperative, and eventually Tony let himself float free of Steve enough that he could push Steve back against the wall of the pool. Steve blinked his eyes open, and he looked starry and dazed, eyes big and glassy-sweet with pleasure, mouth hanging open all breathless and wet.

“T-Tony,” he stuttered.

“A few more steps to the left, slugger,” Tony said, and Steve looked at him questioning, but he obeyed, until his pecs with their pink round nipples cleared the surface of the water. “Your nipples got all sweet and hard,” Tony observed happily. “What, was that from the water or because I was driving you crazy?”

Steve stuttered wordlessly, but Tony didn’t really wait for his reply, kicked off in the water so he could swim in and press their lips together, letting one hand fall to tug and twist and pull at Steve’s peaked, rosy nipple as the other fell to curve over the head of Steve’s cock again, letting Steve’s body support his completely again. Steve choked, moaned, pressed his chest up into his touch along with his cock, jerking needily forward. Steve was such a sweetheart, so sensitive all over, with some of the most sensitive nipples Tony had ever seen on anyone, and he always reacted to pleasure with surprise, like he hadn’t seen it coming, like he never expected it. It made it all the more wonderful to provide it, to make him feel good until Steve was falling apart with that awestruck, almost tearful, bewildered look he got when he came, like Tony was really giving him something, something good, that he could keep Steve safe while Steve had that, at least.

“Shh,” Tony murmured, against Steve’s lip, the soft, desperate little choking groans he made into his mouth, “shh, I’ve gotcha, big fella.” He twirled his thumb against Steve’s areola, rubbed it over the tip of his nipple, before he pulled on it again, sucking softly on Steve’s bottom lip until he gave a little quivering cry. “Does that feel good? I bet it does. Aww, yeah, that’s it.” Steve was rolling his hips up, thrusting into Tony’s hand, now, and he could feel the big slick head of his cock rolling through his fingers, swiped his thumb back and forth over the head until Steve moaned and shook his head, cheeks flushed bright pink, teeth digging into his bottom lip, clearly struggling with sensitivity, and then he just concentrated on pumping the shaft for one more moment before he pulled back again. Steve looked at him pleadingly, all blown eyes and teeth digging into his lower lip, but Tony just tapped his thigh lightly. “How about you lift up?” he said. “Sit on the edge.”

Steve blinked, looked at him a little confusedly, then nodded. He ran his knuckles gently down Tony’s cheek, surprising him in a way that had warm tenderness twisting and rising almost painfully in his chest—then put his palms flat on the side of the pool and lifted himself out with an ease that was almost painful to watch. Water poured off him, and okay, that was just ridiculous. What the fuck.

“Unfair,” Tony breathed, but there was Steve’s beautiful dick, just like he’d wanted it, so he reached out, curled his hand around the base, and pressed a kiss to the head. He kept it open mouthed, soft and suckling, so that it wouldn’t be too much on Steve’s oversensitive flesh, but Steve still cried out, his fingers clenching against the sides of the pool. “Shh, baby doll,” Tony murmured, let his tongue slide out and curled it around Steve’s tip, ran it over the head all pink and messy with the precome that Steve was practically fountaining out now, teased it along underneath, “just a few seconds more now, huh?” He breathed the words out over the head, then took Steve’s cock firmly into his mouth and gave him a long, slow suck.

It was surreal, doing this where his feet couldn’t touch the bottom, where he was anchoring himself with one hand on Steve’s knee and the other on his cock, but it felt oddly good, too, strangely powerful and helpless at the same time, just giving himself up to Steve to suck his cock. Tony let his eyes flutter closed. Steve gave a choked little moan—his hand wasn’t in his hair, Tony thought mournfully, he liked it better when Steve’s hand was in his hair—but he hardly ever did that, too afraid to pull or exert force, Tony thought. It was still good, feeling Steve’s huge warm thighs on either side of him, damp and trembling, the heat and weight and girth of his cock on Tony’s tongue, filling his mouth up so completely he always felt like it was barely going to fit when he got it in toward the back of his throat, but then it did. He took Steve in just that far, then set about giving him gently firm, soft, messy sucks, knowing Steve was so close it wouldn’t take long.

It took about ten strokes back and forth with his mouth, actually, and then Steve was coming, crying out and stuffing his fist in his mouth, clutching one hand across his belly and doubling over, eyes screwing up like he was about to cry and breath sobbing, but Tony was used to that reaction by now and just rubbed at his thigh, gently, soothing, letting his hot come hit the back of his throat and swallowing it down without a murmur, letting that soothe him into that sweet soft easy place again he always seemed to get from sucking Steve off. Steve always came for a long time, so it took a while, and then Tony pulled off, and dragged himself in a little more solidly between Steve’s legs with one hand on the side of the pool. He let his head rest against Steve’s thigh, and Steve gave a whimpering little laugh that was almost a moan, and his hand _finally_ came down to stroke through Tony’s hair.

“God, sweetheart,” he murmured, and his fingers slid so gently, so perfectly, warm and broad and strong, over Tony’s skull, through his hair, that he felt like moaning, and the endearment swept through Tony so warm and so vivid that he felt himself flushing, hiding his face against Steve’s thigh, because his suddenly stinging eyes were stupid, just at being called _sweetheart_ , God, he was an embarrassment, “you’re the best at that.”

“Probably not technically true,” Tony mumbled, smiling a little at that, anyway, “but thanks, champ.”

“Best I’ve ever had,” Steve said, and it sounded dreamy, but Tony could tell he was smiling, too.

“More like only,” Tony muttered, and Steve didn’t bother to correct him, because they both knew it was true.

“Still awful good,” Steve said. “Can’t imagine anyone better.”

Tony managed not to say any of the things he wanted to say, most of which were pretty awful and he knew would have upset his sweet, earnestly affectionate, earnestly attached supersoldier, along the lines of that Steve would have to let him know if he ever found anyone better, or that Tony was curious about what Steve's next lay would be like. He kissed Steve’s inner thigh instead. “How’s that for hydrotherapy?” he asked, and Steve gave a little laugh.

“Swell,” he said, and then slid down into the water beside Tony, surprising him, and wrapped him up in his big warm arms, one hand coming up to brush along Tony’s cheek, curl into his hair, as he gathered Tony up against him. “I think you’re swell,” Steve said, firmly, and kissed Tony on the mouth, even with come still on his lips, and Tony moaned, feeling his eyes flutter, feeling stupid for it, but with the way Steve held him, unable to think about much else other than that and Steve’s warm arms, and maybe that wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling up at his big earnest super soldier boyfriend after he pulled away, and if his eyes were a little wet, well, they had been in the damn pool. “I think it’s going pretty swell, too, tiger. You’re not bad yourself.”

Steve’s beaming smile in return felt like far too much in return for that, but Tony smiled back anyway, and he felt that soft warmth sweep all the way down to his toes, from where he was pressed against Steve.


End file.
